


you anchor me back down

by lvllns



Series: what can one grey warden do? [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, all the prompts for the 14 days of da lovers will go here!, also all of these are canon for issy and zev after awakening, and this is gonna be a great exercise in writing short and quick little pieces, i didn't think i was gonna but i went ahead with the nsfw, it's not.....terribly explicit but still. an exercise in writing outside of my comfort zone., so there u go, they're gonna be so fucking soft y'all just so soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvllns/pseuds/lvllns
Summary: "I love you, you know that right?""Yes. Yes I...I know that."
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Female Mahariel, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden
Series: what can one grey warden do? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1357924
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	1. rose

**Author's Note:**

> i saw these prompts floating around tumblr and they caught my eye and now here we are. hopefully they'll all be under 1k a chapter but........we'll see lmao.

Isseya is still in bed when she hears the door quietly open and close.

Her ears flick, straining toward the front room and she just picks up the sounds of Zevran moving around. She should get up but it’s early yet and she’s feeling especially indulgent today so she closes her eyes and drifts on the edge of sleep.

The bedroom door squeaks. Zevran curses under his breath and Isseya laughs.

“I thought I had fixed that,” the door squeaks a few more times as he no doubt swings it back and forth while glaring at it.

“Probably a different hinge this time,” she yawns. Finally sits up and stretches, letting the light blanket pool in her lap.

That pulls him away from the door and it closes with a squeak and a thump. With all the natural grace of a halla, Zevran makes his way toward her. His hands are behind his back. Isseya quirks a brow and watches silently.

He stops in front of her, a soft smile on his face that wrinkles the corners of his eyes. “You will never guess what I found at the market this morning.”

She tilts her head. “Did you get up ridiculously early specifically for whatever you’re hiding?”

“Of course,” he winks. Shifts his weight and Isseya spots the tension settling in his shoulders.

She reaches out and cups his cheek, thumb smoothing over his tattoos. The effect is immediate. Zevran closes his eyes and melts into her touch, shoulders sagging and chest rumbling as he all but purrs appreciatively. Leaning forward to rest on her knees allows her to sweep her hand back, push her fingers into his hair and scratch blunt nails along his scalp.

One of his knees begins to buckle but he catches himself. Chuckles as he cracks his eyes open. “Before you ruin me for the rest of today, my dear,” he leans down, kisses her forehead and draws his hands out from behind his back.

Isseya finds herself scooting away to accommodate the half dozen bright red roses in his hand.

They’re fresh, petals light and perky, with long stems and bright green leaves. Blood red in color, not a blemish or spot of anything lighter on them. Oh and they smell divine. She buries her nose right in the middle and inhales deeply.

Zevran laughs above her, gentle and sweet, and she pulls away to grin up at him. “They’re beautiful _vhenan_. They need water,” she goes to stand up but he places a hand on her shoulder.

“Stay, I already have a vase for them,” a quick kiss to her cheek and he sweeps from the room after glaring at the door when it squeaks again.

He leaves it open behind him so she watches until he disappears down the hall. Isseya sits quietly, watches as Antiva comes to life outside with the rising run. She gets up and swings it open, the squeak when she does intentional, and inhales deep. Fills her lungs and closes her eyes and tips her head back. The bakery nearby is already busy, made clear by all the cinnamon and sugar she smells.

One ear flicks back when Zevran steps on the creaky floorboard (another intentional decision) and she’s smiling when he steps into the room. A soft thump and she turns. Spots the vase full of roses, definitely more than the half dozen he had presented her with five minutes ago.

He looks a little sheepish, color staining his cheeks, but Isseya only smiles wider. It tugs at her cheeks, wrinkles her nose and her ears twitch before they perk up happily.

“I love you,” two steps and she’s in his arms, head tipping back to look up at him. “So much.”

The noise he makes is soft and wanting, warm and familiar, and he leans down to kiss her.

He tastes like sugar.

Isseya steps back and glares at him playfully. “Please tell me you brought me some —”

Zevran sighs like he’s put out and annoyed but he’s grinning, wide, and his eyes are so bright. When he picks up a cinnamon covered pastry from the bedside table, she kisses him again.

“Roses and sweets? Am I forgetting an important date?” Isseya plucks the pastry from his hand and takes a massive bite.

He snorts, laughs and sits on the bed. Their bed. A hand reaches up to rest on her waist and he hums softly before leaning forward to kiss her shoulder. “Nothing important, just a reminder that I am yours,” he whispers against her bare skin and she shivers.

“Ar lath ma, _vhenan_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> issy and zev have [a playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3QNuFGmcEMhvJPkv7DQvdi) and i highly suggest listening to "moon to my sun" and/or "anchor" while reading this ^^


	2. hand holding

The ocean stretches out before them, an endless expanse of bright blue capped with white and Isseya bites her bottom lip.

She can swim, she’s a strong swimmer even, but it’s always been lakes or rivers, streams or ponds. Nothing quite so temperamental and, frankly, scary. The waves push and pull at the shore and despite Zevran telling her it’s a calm day, she still eyes the water with a healthy dose of respect. The last thing she wants is to get swept out to sea.

What an ending that would be.

The Hero of Ferelden, dragged to the deeps off the coast of Antiva. Probably food for some terrifying sea creature.

She blinks and looks up. Finds Zevran ankle-deep in the water, bending over and sifting through the wet sand. His hair is tied up on the top of his head, sleeves pushed back to his elbows and breeches rolled to the middle of his calves. Isseya watches him quietly, head tilting just a little when he stands and holds something up to the light.

Swallowing down the uncomfortable feeling that swirls in the middle of her stomach, she walks to him. Steps into the water with only the faintest of nervous exhales. She is drawn to him like a moth to a flame. A darkspawn to an archdemon.

Isseya snorts.

Maybe not so much the last one.

“What did you find?” She peers up at his hands, eyes blinking against the light of the sun.

“Sea glass,” Zevran grins at her. Turns and opens his palm to reveal a small collection of blue-green...rocks? Crystals? “They are pieces of glass, bottles most likely, that get shaped by the sand and water,” he gestures with his hand and Isseya reaches out, palm up.

He dumps the group of six pieces into her hand and she rolls them around. They knock together, clinking and shifting against her skin. They’re warm from the summer sun. Smooth from being tumbled around on the beach for who knows how long.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispers, eyes trained on the glass as she twists them in every direction.

He hums. Reaches out and smooths hair from her face. “Another thing for you to collect like the magpie you are.”

“Aren’t crows also fond of shiny objects?”

“Perhaps, but I have found my greatest treasure so I need nothing more,” he winks at her and it’s so fucking unfair how easily he unmakes her with only his words.

Everything he does is so smooth yet genuine and she feels her breath hitch. Her knees wobble. The glass makes a gentle sound as she clenches her hand into a fist around them. He is standing in front of her grinning like a lovesick fool with open eyes and looking like a damn pirate.

Isseya thinks she could die happy right now. On this beach with Zevran looking at her like she’s made of gold.

“You are unbelievable,” she murmurs, bright eyes flicking from his eyes to his mouth before meeting his gaze. “You say the most...ridiculous things but they’re, they,” she snorts. “I love you.”

Zevran hums and reaches out to take her free hand. Laces their fingers together and places himself between her and deeper waters and her heart beats against her ribcage like a trapped bird. He always knows just how to put her at ease. Putting himself between her and danger when he can, allowing her to fuss over him when she needs to touch every single stretch of skin to know he’s okay.

Isseya makes a soft noise and steps into him. Bumps her shoulder against his arm and smiles softly as they walk down the beach hand in hand.


	3. bow & arrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm having a lot of fun using these prompts as an exercise in writing quick and doing only minimal editing.

The string on her bow snaps a split second before she releases the arrow. It twangs, loud against the relative silence of the woods, and the rabbit she had been planning to kill bolts into the thick underbrush.

Isseya grimaces. Holds her bow up and squints at it like it’s personally offended her. This was a fine string, a new one she bought from a vendor before they left Rivain and maybe she had been foolish to trust the human would sell her anything of quality. Still, she had thought it would hold up until Denerim, a short stretch of time with relatively light use.

Considering the fact that two pieces of string now rest in her hand, she was clearly mistaken.

“Creators fucking take me,” she snaps to nobody but the trees, nose wrinkling in annoyance. “At least the bow is fine,” turning it over in her hands, she brushes her fingers across the intricate carvings.

She allows herself five minutes before turning and heading back to camp. Another string sits in her pack at camp but from the same person and she would rather not use it if they’re prone to breaking so easily. They have rations still, dried meat and some hearth cakes, so at least they won’t go without tonight. There are traps in their packs but she’ll need to go set them up and there isn’t any guarantee something will be caught in the morning. Fishing is always an option but the nearest water source was a small stream, likely not able to sustain anything large enough to be worth the effort and time.

Isseya steps back into camp lost in thought, eyes seeing Zevran by the fire but skipping over him to her pack. With a sigh, she sets her bow down, coils the torn string and moves to root through her bag.

“My bag,” Zevran doesn’t look up from where he’s fletching arrows. Isseya tilts her head and reaches for his instead. “The side pocket. No, the other — Yes, that one,” her eyebrows lift and she looks over her shoulder to find him grinning. “There is a small leather pouch,” Isseya digs in, feels around and pulls out a dark brown bag. “There you go.”

“Zev, what —”

“Open it Issy,” his eyes flash in the dying light of the sun, a brief glimmer turns amber to whiskey, and when he smiles it is wide and full of sharp teeth.

Warily, she sits on her heels and unties the bag. Bursts into uncontrolled laughter when she sees what’s inside. Gently she removes the new bowstring and snorts.

“I thought it would hold out until Denerim,” she shakes her head. “I was proven wrong.”

“Close though, we are only three days from the city,” Zevran sets the bunch of arrows down and stretches, hands over his head and back arching. “That one is Dalish made so it should prove to be more reliable than the last.”

“We’re going to have to swing into the Brecilian and find a clan,” reaching over she snags her bow and begins to unwind the string. “When did you get this anyway?”

Zevran hums and when she glances up he’s leaning back, resting on his forearms with his head tipped back, eyes closed.

“Would you believe me if I said I bought it the last time we were in Denerim?”

She blinks and feels very much like she has been whacked in the head with a brick.

“I would but...Zev, that was almost a year ago.”

“Mhm,” his eyes open and he looks at her, soft and glinting gold in the light of the campfire. “I figured it would eventually come in handy,” a crooked grin splits his lips and she snorts.

“My hero.”

Zevran laughs, high and bright and easy. “We both know that I am never unprepared,” he winks at her, runs his tongue along his bottom lip and raises one brow.

“I have a bow to restring, don’t tempt me,” she wags a finger at him and he lifts his hands.

“Later then.”

Two words with so much promise woven into them that she shivers and if she rushes through fixing her bow, well, only Zevran will know.


	4. napping together

There are many things Zevran enjoys about being back home in Antiva City but none quite so much as the climate.

Spring is fading into summer, bringing heat and sunshine and the occasional bout of rain. Today it’s warm and muggy, the air feels thick as he makes his way back home. A glance up reveals the cluster of dark clouds on the horizon and the promise of rain makes him pick up the pace just a little.

He deliberately bumps against the door before swinging it open. The main room is empty and all the windows are closed. With a sigh, he darts around and opens them all. The weak breeze immediately begins to filter through the space and he feels the heat lessen just a fraction. He turns to lock the door and pauses, listening for any kind of sound and ah, there. Just down the hall, he can hear water sloshing and he snorts.

There’s one spot on the floor that squeaks when it’s stepped on and Zevran makes sure he hits it. The water noises stop immediately.

“Zev?” Isseya’s voice rings out.

He pauses in the doorway to their bedroom, leans against the jamb, and quirks a brow.

In the middle of the room, Isseya is sitting on the floor with a jug of water in front of her and a wet cloth hanging around her neck. She blinks owlishly at him, gold eyes round and wide and then she grins.

“Zev it’s hot,” he laughs as she whines.

“You will not survive the summer at this rate, my dear.”

She groans and falls back dramatically. “How is this not summer? Why is it so hot?”

Five steps have him in the room and kneeling down next to her. He reaches out, rests the back of his hand against her forehead just to check but she doesn’t feel sick. One bright eye cracks open and glares at him as he stands back up.

“It is hardly warm and there is rain coming,” he offers her his hand. Wiggles his fingers and his eyebrows until she cracks, laughing and placing her palm against his. “Come, I will show you how we Antivans pass the time in the heat of the afternoon,” a wink makes her blush.

“Absolutely not, it’s so warm I feel like I’m melting,” Isseya grumbles and stretches as soon as she’s standing, joints popping and settling. “I miss the snow,” her bottom lip juts out as she pouts.

Zevran snorts and tugs her toward the bed. “Ah yes, the Frostbacks were always so enjoyable,” he’s grinning and she glares at him again. “Strip and get in bed.”

“Zev —”

“None of that, I promise,” a swift kiss to her cheek before he plucks at the ties of his breeches.

He can feel her eyes on him as he undresses and he knows exactly where they’ll catch as he moves. Tossing his shirt behind him gives him the perfect opportunity to flex his arms, just a little, just enough that Isseya pauses before she continues. Once he’s down to his smalls, he goes to the window and throws it open, inhaling deep as the light breeze carries the scent of salt from the ocean.

He hears her before he sees her, the soft shuffle of her feet on the floor. Six steps and she is at his side, shoulder brushing against his skin.

“The breeze is nice,” she hums. Closes her eyes and leans forward a little. “I’m going to have to learn to open windows.”

“Yes, you do this in Ferelden and you will let all the snow and mud in, perhaps even a mabari,” he grins and chuckles when she elbows him.

“Was the plan get naked and stand in front of the window?”

Zevran clucks his tongue at her. “Trust me, my dear.”

“You know I do,” she turns her head, places a kiss to his shoulder. “Lead on, love.”

It takes all of thirty seconds for him to direct her to their bed. He throws all the blankets off, light as they are, and moves the pillows around until he’s satisfied. Hands on his hips, he looks over at Isseya and smiles. “Now, we sleep.”

“We — What?” She blinks. Looks between him and the bed before her eyes settle on his. “It’s...the middle of the day?”

“Precisely,” he flops down on his back and reaches for her.

Her own hand finds his without a thought and his breath catches. After everything, she trusts him so easily, so loudly. It never fails to make his heart stumble and knock against his chest.

A gentle pull and she’s on her back next to him, her head turning to look at him but he closes his eyes before he can find himself lost. “Sleep,” he inhales deep. Exhales slowly. Repeats that a few times until he notices that she’s matching his rhythm.

Still, despite her complaints about sleeping during the day and the heat and grumbling about how they’re going to wake up stuck together, Isseya is gone before he is. Smooth, even breaths letting him know she’s out cold on her stomach, one arm extended so her hand can rest on his chest. Zevran places his own atop hers, laces their fingers together and falls asleep with a smile on his face.


	5. love letters

She finds the first one on the bedside table.

A small square of parchment with a heart scribbled on it. Isseya runs her finger over the drawing as a smile spreads across her face. A quick glance around the room reveals at least one more piece of parchment and when she listens she can hear the sounds of Zevran moving around the kitchen.

Rising to her feet, she stretches and groans when her back pops. The second drawing isn’t a drawing at all, but a small note that simply says _good morning_ and she carefully folds it in half. Sets it down on the table with the first and chews on her bottom lip for a moment. There’s a shirt laying on top of the chest and when she picks it up, she finds another letter. Isseya tugs the shirt on and traces her finger over the second heart drawing before resting it carefully with the other two.

It takes ten minutes before she is certain the bedroom is empty of notes. Another had been hidden inside the chest, one with her daggers and one stuffed inside her boot.

“When did he manage to hide all of these last night?” She looks at the stack of six little pieces of parchment and blinks. Blinks again and snorts.

Of course he didn’t hide them all last night.

Of course he’s been hiding them for weeks probably.

She presses her free hand to her mouth for a moment, smiling despite the fact that her eyes feel suspiciously damp. Creators take this man, he is going to ruin her if he hasn’t already.

Deciding not to search out any others, she kneels down and smacks her hand around underneath their bed until she finds what she’s looking for. The box is a little dusty but it still smells strongly of cedar and Isseya presses her nose against it and inhales deeply. There’s a similar one under Zevran’s side, made of cherry wood and probably due to be swept free of dust as well.

Isseya scoots back, picks up the notes, tucks the box under her arm and drifts into the living room. She smiles at Zevran, soft and warm, and he answers in kind. His eyes flick to her hands, widening in surprise, before he spots the box and tilts his head. Everything gets set on the small table and she unlocks the box. Flips it open and swallows hard.

The bear bones sit on top in their leather pouch, too fragile to end up accidentally buried, and she gingerly removes them. Her thumb runs over the fabric, worn and faded in places, before she sets them down. There’s a mix of things now but she picks up a stack of letters, bound with a black ribbon.

“ _Amor_?” Zevran’s voice is curious and she flashes him a bright smile over her shoulder.

“I need to keep these safe,” she waves the six pieces of parchment in the air.

He laughs, footsteps drawing closer along with the strong smell of coffee. “You have — Are those the letters I sent you while you were at the Vigil?”

Isseya nods, tracing her fingers over the thick stack on the table.

“So wordy and full of prose,” he sighs and she jumps when his breath ghosts across her shoulder. “Apologies, love.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine it’s just,” she blows out a breath and squints down at the offending pile of parchment. “That was...a rough year.”

Zevran hums. Leans down to kiss her shoulder before taking a sip of coffee. “It is over now at least.”

“Thankfully,” a shiver runs down her spine. “Anyway, I wanted…” Isseya trails off and tucks the stack of letters back into their place. Sets the new notes on top before carefully tucking the bear bones away. “How many are there?”

“Now, now,” he tuts. Kisses her shoulder again and steps away. His eyes are sparkling with mischief when she turns to look at him. “You’ll just have to keep looking, yes?”

Another two steps and he’s moving down the hall, stepping backward so he can smirk at her.

Isseya closes the box.

Leaves it on the table and trails after the smell of leather and coffee and Zevran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the bear bones are from tamlen *finger guns*


	6. fighting together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for canon typical violence!  
> i think is my favorite one so far, i have spent so much time thinking about how they would fight together.

There’s always a moment, a split second, when everything shifts and it becomes apparent just how dangerous what they’re doing actually is.

Tonight it’s when seven more Crows filter into the building. A dozen of them now, huddling in a semi-circle and whispering and if it weren’t for her keen hearing she would miss the worried tones and frantic questions about the Black Shadow. One of them, a younger human man, mentions the Dark Wolf and gets cuffed on the back of the head and told to stop talking nonsense.

She barely manages to stifle a laugh.

Her ledge is small, barely a foots length across, and she is very, _very_ careful as she adjusts her position. Never once has she fallen from a tree or any high vantage point, and she really doesn’t want to start by tumbling from the rafters of an abandoned warehouse right into a pile of pissed off Crows. They won’t get all of them tonight, probably, but if she focuses and picks off the older ones, the younger may scatter and decide that trying to keep this House going isn’t worth the price on their heads.

Isseya looks up, sweeps the windows and finds nothing out of place. Glances back down and just makes out the formless lump of black and silver that is Zevran, hiding out of sight of the group. He shifts his weight, looks up and she winks at him, unsure if he’ll see or not given the distance and darkness between them. He nods at her. Draws his daggers and crouches down, ready to pounce.

She nocks an arrow and settles herself. Grounds herself in the feeling of wood and smell of fear that hangs heavy in the building.

Inhales.

Holds.

Exhales.

Releases.

Her first arrow finds it’s mark, the throat of the oldest Crow, and he goes down without making a sound. There’s a soft shift of air, a dull thump as the arrow hits and a louder impact as his body collapses to the ground. In the time it takes for any of them to react to that death, two more have died, arrows jutting out from their necks like flags on a hill.

A quick flash of silver on the edges and she catches the next one in the foot, pins him in place and he manages to yell before Zevran’s dagger finds his jugular.

One of them screams, yells something about the Black Shadow and Zevran’s answering cackle has them scattering like rats.

Isseya snorts. Drops down onto a pile of boxes they had stacked up three days ago, and looses two arrows in rapid succession. Another pinned by her and dispatched by Zevran. Another shot through the chest, dead before she hits the ground.

“Oh you have all made the gravest of mistakes,” she lowers her voice, allows the words to hiss from between her teeth and she stands. Nocks an arrow and smiles wide, all sharp teeth. She fires, pins yet another Crow and those still standing start to back away. “I wouldn’t recommend going that way.”

The man who had been desperately trying to yank his foot from the floor collapses with a wet squelch. A woman to his left falls back with a dagger in her eye.

There are four left, young things, barely adults and they’re shaking.

Zevran moves around into the moonlight, his mask obscures his face and she adjusts her own. Rolls her shoulders and hops down to the ground and places herself behind Zevran, an arrow nocked and ready.

He takes one step closer, two clean wicked blades in his hands, and the four men yelp and flee into the night. Tumbling and tripping over each other as they flounder in the dark, crashing through boxes before getting out the back door.

Isseya pushes her mask up, the onyx owl face hidden underneath the hood of her cloak. “Well, that was exciting.”

Zevran laughs, removes his own mask and grins at her. “And as always you are an excellent shot, my dear,” an exaggerated wink has her blushing and she’s grateful for the lack of light inside the building. “Those four will have some tale to tell the rest.”

She hums, rolls a body over with her foot. “Any of these important people?”

“One master, the first one you shot,” he drifts around the space, floats from dead Crow to dead Crow and snorts. “No one else of import which means they are taking note,” he makes a thoughtful noise and tilts his head. “Ah well, more birds to pluck in the future.”

Isseya shoulders her bow. “Are many left of House Arainai?”

“A decent amount but they will fall soon enough,” he shrugs. Steps over a body and offers Isseya his arm like they’re going out for a stroll and didn’t just murder eight people.

She takes it, of course, and they slip out the back door without a sound.


	7. love birds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had trouble with this one but it came out pretty good in the end

Teagan had convinced Isseya that this was something worth experiencing which is the only reason why she allowed all of this to happen.

It had been his idea, after all, to host a masquerade ball while the visiting Orlesian dignitaries are here. Alistair had been wary but came around much faster than she did. She wanted nothing to do with it, she was the ambassador to the Dalish and a spymaster and sometimes she killed people who thought they were going to kill her best friend first. None of that meant she was supposed to partake in a fancy ball for nobility.

And then Zevran had batted his eyes at her and Teagan had casually mentioned something about a potential assassination attempt, which Isseya would bet money on being untrue, but she had given in eventually with a dramatic sigh.

So now she stands on one side of the ballroom in a loose dress made of fabric that floats when she moves and she is grateful that she wasn’t shoved into something Orlesian. The dress is bright silver with black stitching, a plunging neckline and almost no back to speak off and she shifts, her right leg briefly exposed to the air almost all the way up to her hip and honestly. She’s going to murder Teagan first and then Zevran.

Carefully she adjusts her mask, the silver owl face catches the light and glitters against her bright gold eyes. Her entire face has been hidden though she doubts it does much good given how visible all her tattoos are.

“Having fun?” Zevran’s voice is a welcome change from having to fend off various men who don’t understand when to give up.

She looks at him out of the corner of her eye and, well, she will begrudgingly admit that he looks good. Really good. Tight black breeches, a loose black shirt that is open basically from clavicle to navel, and supple black boots that stop just below his knee. All of it stitched with silver. His own mask is a crow, black with feathers along the sides and standing next to each other Isseya realizes that they make quite the pair.

“Teagan is a filthy liar,” she hisses, eyes drifting over the gathering. “Assassination attempt my ass.”

“ _Amor_ ,” Zevran leans closer, a hand on her waist. “I rather think the two of us being so very visible is enough of a detraction for any who would try their hand.”

She hums. Turns on her heel and leans against him, her mask resting against his bare collarbone. His arms wind around her, fingers skate up and down her spine methodically.

“Did you know, one of the Orlesians referred to us as love birds earlier?” She can hear the grin in his voice as he speaks.

Isseya snorts. Tips her head back to look him in the eyes. “When was that?”

He hums softly, his fingers settle between her shoulder blades. “When you and I were dancing,” his head tilts and Isseya can read the fondness in his eyes with ease. He moves and rests his chin on the top of her head, careful not to mess the braids. “Sometimes...I worry I do not tell you enough,” his voice drops and Isseya wants to pull away. To look at him. But he keeps her in place. “It is reassuring to know that others can see how much I love you just through my actions.”

Inexplicably, she feels like crying.

Oh, she is crying.

Tears slip down her cheeks behind her mask and she clutches at the back of his shirt. “Please don’t ever, ever wonder if I know how much you love me,” her voice cracks and it’s wet, thick with emotion.

Zevran steps back, eyes wide and worried as he delicately moves her mask so he can brush his thumbs across her cheeks. “Issy…”

“I know, okay?” She settles her gaze into something stern, though a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “You show me constantly, through little things Zev. You don’t need to tell me all the time unless you want to because your actions are loud enough, trust me.”

Her ears twitch, flicking back as a group of Orlesian women walk by and they all sigh in unison. A few of them whisper about love birds and how fitting their masks are and the coordinating colors oh how romantic.

Isseya snorts and Zevran chuckles and everything heavy floats away like a dandelion in the breeze.

He winks at her, playful and mischievous, before stepping around and sweeping into an exaggerated bow, right hand extended toward her.

“May I have this dance?”

She reaches out and wraps her fingers around his. Squeezes gently as she smiles, moving closer.

“Always.”


	8. patching up

Isseya is out training, running drills by herself, when she steps wrong and wrenches her ankle bad enough that she cries out.

She hits the ground hard, her hands taking the brunt of the impact before she lands on her knees. Breathing hard, she tries to steady herself but her ankle has it’s own heartbeat now and it’s pounding away in her boot. It takes a moment before she can bring herself to gently move and sit, left leg extended. Her palms are bloody and raw from falling but her foot is pointing the right direction so that’s a win.

The leather around her foot is starting to feel tight and she curses herself for choosing a boot over footwraps. All she wanted was to get a little more comfortable in them but she misstepped, over-compensated for the weird feeling, and now here she is.

Sitting on the ground, bloody and bruised and searching for a dagger because she needs to cut the boot off.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself and gets a whiff of leather, sword oil and cinnamon.

“Oh thank fuck,” tips her head back and spots Zevran, blade in hand. “Hello love.”

“My dear,” he grins at her as he kneels by her side. “What in the world happened?”

Isseya snorts and rolls her eyes. “I decided to try training in boots and, well,” jerks her chin toward her foot. “Now it needs to be cut off.”

He hums. Moves carefully and gingerly steadies her leg with a hand on her calf. He plucks the laces free, unties them so he can get the blade between skin and leather. With one swift movement, he slices straight through the boot.

“It might actually be broken,” he mumbles as he eases the shoe away from her body. Slides the dagger into the sheath at his hip and climbs to his feet, offering her his hand. “Come now, let’s sort this out away from the eyes of all the guards.”

She blinks up at him and grimaces. “Mythal’s tits, this is going to get around.”

Between both of them, they get her standing though she’s unsteady. He slings an arm around her waist, drapes her arm over his shoulders, and helps her hop back into the castle.

Well, helps her hop halfway to the castle and then he just picks her up despite her protests.

Isseya grumbles and rolls her eyes. “I can walk, kind of,” Zevran laughs. “The good news is I don’t think it’s broken.”

He hums.

“I’m never wearing boots again, Eamon can go fuck himself, I’m wearing footwraps around the Orlesians.”

Zevran laughs, loudly, and kicks their bedroom door open. Places her down on the desk and digs in his pack until he finds the right kit. Isseya opens her mouth to tell him to grab her footwraps but he’s already in her bag, rooting around until he finds the blue leather. He sits in the chair in front of her, moves her foot into his lap, and smooths elfroot paste everywhere.

She hums. Leans back and tries not to focus on the sharp heartbeat pounding away near her toes. His hands are warm and the elfroot works fast, numbs just a little and reduces the swelling enough for Zevran to bind her foot with a thick strip of cloth. The footwrap is wound over top of the fabric, stabilizing the joint even more and she exhales heavily as the pain begins to ebb away.

“Hands, love,” he scoots closer in the chair. Looks up at her with one cocked eyebrow.

Isseya rolls her eyes but smiles all the same. Holds her hands out, palms up, and sits quietly as he wipes them clean with alcohol and plucks bits of rock from the cuts. Satisfied, he smears elfroot paste on them, covers them with cloth, and slides her gloves onto her hands before leaning back with a grin.

“There we go,” a fond pat to her thigh before he stands.

She catches his arm. Turns him to face her and tugs until he’s standing between her legs.

“Thank you,” she kisses his cheek. Nuzzles her nose against his throat and hums.

“Anytime, although, you are not allowed to get injured anymore.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”


	9. bee (mine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zevran is the "hm seems risky but yes, let's do this" companion and you cannot change my mind

Zevran has not seen Isseya all day and that is unusual.

For a number of reasons but the biggest one being, she never leaves without waking him in the morning but she did today. There was a note, thankfully, that said she would see him later but later has yet to come and Zevran feels like he has been distracted all day. Alistair noticed during their meeting and the man had excused him, saying they could pick this up later and maybe a walk through the gardens would clear Zevran’s head.

So that’s where he is now.

The gardens.

He drags his fingers over the roses and carefully avoids the bees buzzing from flower to flower. For as tightly wound as he was, Alistair is proving to be correct. As Zevran walks, he feels his shoulders loosen and his jaw unclench and he shakes out his fingers to ease some of the strain. Isseya is somewhere in the palace, safe and fine and he need not worry about her.

Except he isn’t worried about her. He knows just how capable she is and it isn’t worry for her well being that has him on edge. Zevran just...wants to see her which he still boggles at, even after all the years they've spent at each other's sides. They’ve been apart before, for months at a time even! But the simple fact that she is here and he is not with her has Zevran aimlessly meandering and trying to make it look like he isn’t searching for her.

He’s about ready to head back to their room when he hears glass shatter and a few choice words in elvish and Zevran is going to thank Alistair when he sees the man next.

It takes some wandering, the gardens are dense after all, but he finds her eventually and, well.

Isseya sits in the middle of a patch of flowers, various wildflowers, with vials and shallow dishes and honey spread around her in such a way that it looks like her pack exploded. Zevran pauses, leans against a tree and watches for a few minutes.

The dishes are covered in bees and she leans down. Tips a round vial so the opening is facing the buzzing creatures, and Zevran watches as they file in, chasing after whatever she’s mixed inside with the honey.

“What are you doing?”

Isseya doesn’t even look his way. “Bee bomb.”

He blinks. “Pardon?”

“Alistair brought back uh, instructions from an archer at Skyhold. Sera, remember her?” Zevran nods though Isseya isn’t looking. She continues speaking after a pause anyway. “She figured out a way to get bees into flasks and then you throw them and they explode and bam, angry bees everywhere!” She looks up, cheeks flushed from the sun and eyes bright and Zevran smiles.

“Do they work?” He steps closer, kneels down by her side.

Isseya shrugs as she caps the flask. Holds it up and turns it slowly. “They certainly look annoyed,” her brow furrows. “They can’t stay in here for long, they’ll die.”

“You also only have about ten bees in there,” he takes the glass from her, his fingers brush against hers. “You need more sugar, I think.”

She hums. “You wanna help then?”

“Of course,” he cracks the flask open. Tips it on its side so the bees can leave. “Come, I’m sure the kitchens will not mind a little more sugar disappearing.”


	10. surprise kiss

Zevran swings, just a hair wide, and Isseya ducks before taking half a step backward. He notices the ground she gives up because of course he does, and he moves closer. Two steps. Forces her back onto her heels and crowds her, manipulates the space around her until she has nowhere to go but back.

She thrusts with her elbow, aims for his shoulder but he dances away and back before she can make up any of the ground she lost. A glance to her left shows her the rest of the open sand pit, to her right is the low cobblestone fence that surrounds the training ring. Zevran spins the blunted dagger in his hand and lashes out.

Isseya dives to her left. Hits the ground and rolls before hopping up onto her feet, her own dull blades in her hands. Zevran spins around and oh his grin is so wide it wrinkles the corners of his eyes.

“Much better!”

She has exactly two seconds to preen before he’s right in front of her again and they’re back to trading blows.

They’ve been at this for about an hour now, both of them dripping sweat and Zevran having lost his shirt long ago despite her protests. She should have known better. As skilled as they both are, neither of them has hit hard enough to do anything but leave a bruise.

“Fucking shit,” she pants out as he steadily drives her back. He’s quick, he’s always been quick, and Isseya is much more comfortable with a bow in hand. “Damn it,” the flat of one of his blades catches her side and she grunts.

Zevran moves in, spins the dagger around and lifts his hand to place it against her throat to collect his points.

She meets him halfway, kisses him square on the mouth and hopes that will be enough to throw him off his game.

He freezes.

She shoves her blade up beneath his ribs, the blunt tip pricking at his skin where it would slide right into his heart if it were sharp enough.

“I believe I take this round,” she tilts her head. Smirks at him as he blinks and tries to process what just happened.

A wicked smile stretches his cheeks as he steps closer. Moves into her space and she swallows hard enough that her throat clicks. He smells like leather and sweat and some new oil he got for his hair, all bright and clean. “You, my dear, have turned into a dirty cheat,” his eyes flick over her face. Skip over her _vallaslin_ before dropping to her lips.

“I’ve had a good teacher,” she’s breathless, her heart batters against her ribs like a caged bird.

He hums. Drops his dagger from his left hand and lets it clatter to the ground so he can cup her cheek instead. “Remind me to thank him,” Zevran kisses her and she groans against his mouth.

Her own weapons fall from her hands to the sand beneath their feet and she wraps her arms around his neck. Allows herself to be walked backward until she collides with the side of the armory. One hand grips the back of his neck, holds him close, and the other slides down to rest against his chest. Right over his heart.

Isseya falls and lets him lead and —

The dagger he didn’t drop is at her throat, pushing against the skin and he is grinning against the skin of her cheek.

She pulls back. Tips her head away so her throat is bared and glares at him.

“And that round goes to me,” he winks and she blushes furiously. “Look at you,” he whispers against her ear, making her shiver and she clutches at his shoulder.

“Yes, fine, you win,” she bites her lip as he licks across her collarbones. “Zev…”

His dagger is thrown, somewhere, and she knows they’re going to get an earful from someone about the six blunted daggers strewn about but she doesn’t care. His hands are warm on her hips, sliding under her shirt and she is content to stay here for the rest of the day.

Zevran smiles against her neck before he steps away and Isseya doesn’t bother to try to stop the whine that escapes her. “Room?” He sounds just as wrecked as she feels.

She says nothing, just takes him by the hand and drags him from the training ring, the sound of his high, bright laughter following them all the way back to the castle.


	11. love potion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> isseya and zevran make bad decisions episode 592

Despite every single warning sign, Isseya takes a sip of the concoction Zevran gives her and she really doesn’t think she’s regretted anything more in her entire life.

Coughing and sputtering, she slams the glass on the table and wheezes. His fist thumps between her shoulder blades and the bastard is laughing. She holds her hand up and weakly waves a rude gesture around in the general vicinity of his face while she tries to catch her breath.

“What the fuck,” she gasps, forehead on the table now. “Was that poison?”

She tips her head to look at him and he’s grinning like a fool. She wants to be mad, really she does, but now he’s rubbing soothing circles on her back so she lets it go for the time being.

“Surprisingly no, just something the bartender is calling a ‘Love Potion’ and I haven’t the faintest idea what is in it.”

Isseya coughs, wheezes and glares at him. “So you gave it to me?!”

“Would you rather I gave it to someone else?” His brow quirks and she flips him off again. “What does it taste like?”

“Death warmed over.”

“Isseya.”

“Drink it yourself,” she pushes the glass his way and watches as he eyes it warily. It’s such a small cup, probably meant to be taken as a shot but there was no way she could choke it all down at once.

Zevran lifts the glass to his nose. Sniffs and recoils immediately, eyes wide and ears going flat against his skull.

“Didn’t you smell it before you gave it to me?! _Vhenan_!” Now she’s laughing, eyes shut and hands curled into loose fists on the table. “Why did you even order it?”

“I didn’t!” The glass is set down and he pushes it far away from them. “It was handed to me with a wink and a nudge and I figured it wouldn’t be terrible,” he grimaces. “I thought wrong, obviously.”

Isseya snorts. “Do we need to have a talk about taking mysterious liquids from people?”

He glowers at her but it’s weak and he caves quickly, leaning over to rest his head against hers. “Evidently the bartender here is not to be trusted.”

“Maybe it’s just Kirkwall,” she hums and sighs. “They’d never serve something like that in Denerim.”

His hand finds hers and he tangles their fingers together. Presses his lips to her temple and exhales slowly.

“I will give you ten sovereigns if you drink the rest of it,” she glances at him as she speaks.

Immediately he snatches the cup from the table and tosses it back. His expression goes from neutral to pained in an instant. He doubles over, coughing and wheezing and punching himself in the chest.

Isseya falls onto the floor, hands wrapped around herself as she laughs so hard she cries. There are tears streaming down her face and when she looks up, Zevran flips her off. His face is flushed, ears pinned to the sides of his head, and he flings the empty cup at her with a flick of his wrist.

“Oh that is foul,” somehow he manages to speak between gasping for air and swearing in a colorful mix of Antivan and Orlesian.

“I didn’t think you’d do it!” She climbs back onto the bench, giggling all the while. “Not for ten sovereigns anyway.”

“I did not think it was quite so bad, Maker,” his breathing starts to regulate and Isseya draws circles on his back. “You were right, that tasted like death warmed over.”

She clicks her tongue. “Should have listened.”

“We should buy more, perhaps get the recipe from the bartender,” he twists his head to look at her. “That would be incredibly useful as a poison.”


	12. watching the sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mean, they kind of watch the sunset?

It had been Zevran’s idea, this spontaneous picnic on the beach, and Isseya is viciously glad for the respite it’s given them.

The last three months have been beyond hectic, between Denerim and Crows and the chance to just stop, breathe and enjoy each other is a break they both need.

She rolls onto her side to face him. Reaches up and cups his cheek, traces her thumb over his tattoos. She’s lost count of how often she’s done this. Touched him like he’s made of glass. She knows the ink and scars that decorate him better than she knows her own. Gingerly, she taps her fingers down the side of his face to the bridge of his nose. Draws her index finger up and down, smooths the little furrow between his brows before slowly moving to his mouth so she can trace his lips with her thumb.

Zevran indulges her, as he often does. Sighs softly, melts into the blanket as his eyes flutter shut and he leans into her touch. He lifts his hand and rests it on her hip. His thumb settles on the skin above her hip bone and stays there, not moving, just a constant steady touch.

Isseya sits up, crosses her legs and pulls his hand from her waist to her lap. She hums and runs her fingers over the bumps of his knuckles. Lifts his hand to her lips and kisses each finger. He cracks an eye open, arches a brow and she shrugs. Her mouth trails down and she kisses his palm, his wrist, the back of his hand. Everywhere she can reach without laying back down or pulling him up.

“I did have an ulterior motive for bringing you out here,” his voice is so soft, Isseya almost misses it.

She looks down, gold finds amber and in the fading sun his eyes glitter. She brushes her thumb under his eyes before reaching up to push the hair from his face.

His eyes flick away from her, out toward the water, and he sits up. Scoots closer so their knees are touching and takes her own hands into his. Isseya leans forward and presses her forehead against his neck and inhales deep.

Sword oil, leather, and vanilla this time.

“Isabela will be here soon,” he swallows hard and she pulls back to look at him but he keeps his eyes on the water. She doesn’t think this is what he wants to talk about, not really, because they both knew about Isabela returning after the last letter she sent them but —

“Oh,” the word is barely more than an exhale and Isseya takes his chin in hand and forces him to look at her. “Zev, _vhenan_ , you have to ask me,” she whispers, smirking and delighting in the way he flushes, freckles disappearing as his face heats.

“All I want is to spend the rest of my days with you,” he murmurs, leaning closer so their foreheads knock together. One of his hands comes up and touches the earring she never takes off. “Isseya, will —”

“Yeah,” she cuts him off because she thinks hearing him ask will actually shred her apart.

He throws her the most unimpressed look he can and she wipes it off his face when she kisses him. Arms around his neck, fingers threaded in his hair and she climbs into his lap. He’s smiling against her mouth and she’s giggling and it’s a _mess_ but it’s _perfect_ and she loves him so much her heart feels overfull with it.

“You didn’t even let me ask _amor_ ,” he nuzzles against her throat and she hums.

“Changed my mind.”

Isseya moves around so her back is against his chest, his legs on either side of her thighs and his arms around her waist. The sun drops, the sky goes from blue to pink and orange and she leans into Zevran. Into the solid warmth that has been at her back for the better part of a decade and watches the sky grow dark as the sun disappears beneath the horizon.


	13. love marks

Despite the fact that staying at the castle negates the need for them to wake with the sun, Zevran still rises at the first crow of a nearby rooster. Isseya is in his arms, back to his chest, and there’s the slightest shift in her breathing, a deep inhale followed by the quickening of breaths as she wakes.

He feels her body tense and relax, knows he has already done the same. Products of their upbringing, the both of them. Neither of them are prone to lazing about in bed usually but the solid walls of the palace allow Zevran to drop his guard and melt into the mattress. Isseya follows his lead, leans back against him and hums.

“We can’t go anywhere for a few hours still,” she says. “The sun isn’t even up all the way yet.”

Her voice is thick, rough from sleep. Zevran presses his lips to the back of her neck. Lets his hand wander until it drifts from her waist to her shoulder, the barest brush of fingertips against her skin. He traces her tattoos, tattoos he gave her. Moves to her freckles and taps his fingers against them while he moves his touch around her body.

He hears her inhale, knows she’s going to say something, so he cuts her off with a well-timed nip to the spot behind her ear that always makes her whine. It does not fail him and she glares at him over her shoulder.

Zevran wiggles his eyebrows and bites at her throat. The back of her neck. Her shoulder. He settles in certain spots, works tongue and teeth over her skin until he pulls back, satisfied with the color of the bruise that begins to form. He licks at the junction where her neck and shoulder meet before biting hard.

Isseya hisses through her teeth, reaches back to grab at his forearm and pushes her hips back against him. “You absolute bastard.”

The fact that she’s panting, barely able to speak, only makes him suck at the spot on her neck more thoroughly until she whines again.

“Oh _fuck_ — I have meetings with,” she cuts herself off with a throaty groan when he nips at the point of her ear. His hand slips from her waist to her stomach and he curls his fingers.

“Meetings with?” He murmurs against her shoulder blade before settling in to leave another mark.

“What?” She looks at him over her shoulder, eyes glazed over. “I, shit, meetings with Alistair and Teagan about —”

Zevran grabs at her thigh, fingers barely brushing the inside, and pulls hard. Moves out of the way as he rolls her onto her back. “You are still too coherent for my liking,” he grins at her, wicked and wolfish and watches as the gold of her eyes gets swallowed up by black. “How much time do we have?”

His lips find the hollow of her collarbone and he leaves a mark there.

“I don’t, fuck, I don’t know — _Zevran please_ ,” she clutches at his hips, holds him close and arches off the bed when he bites down on her bicep. “I don’t care how late I am, _please_.”

He looks up at her, eyes slowly moving up her body to meet her gaze and oh she looks wrecked. Hair mussed, eyes wide and hazy. Her bottom lip is between her teeth and she’s biting down hard enough that drops of blood appear underneath her canines. He draws her lip from her teeth and places a soft kiss to her ribs, her stomach. Rests his chin on her hip bone and winks. She shudders and he chuckles.

“Well, since you asked so very nicely.”


	14. nsfw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's done! thank u all for playing along and indulging me as i write about these two ding dongs. <3  
> uh, also, uh, my first nsfw? although less smut and more.......emotions?

Isseya barely has time to kick the door shut behind them before Zevran is on her, hands on her waist and mouth on her neck as he backs her up until she hits the wall.

“Missed you,” he breathes against her neck. Inhales deep and bites at the thin skin of her throat.

Her fingers scrabble at his shoulders, try to find purchase until she gives up and yanks the tie from his hair. Sinks her fingers into strands of gold and tugs so he’s looking at her.

“Never again, a year is too long,” she darts her eyes over his face. Looks from eyes to lips to neck to eyes again, unable to settle and needing desperately to take him in.

A year at Vigil’s Keep running the Wardens. A year with only letters to tide them over. It was good, really, the time to grow on their own but she is delirious with joy now that she can see him again. _Touch_ him again.

Creators she has missed him something fierce. Coming home to him, finding him waiting at the docks in Antiva with a smile on his face...it feels like something has settled neatly in her chest and she never wants to lose that. So she grabs onto it with both hands and grips tight and leans forward to kiss him in a rush of need and want.

He groans against her mouth. Grabs at the hem of her shirt and pulls up. She steps away and rips the tunic off. Tosses it somewhere to her left and starts working on the laces of her breeches. She has a blinding moment of clarity, as she slips the soft leather pants down her legs, where she’s glad her breeches are torn just below the knee because she is able to bypass her footwraps entirely.

Zevran scoops her up and sets her on the nearest object, a desk in the corner of the room. She laughs when he shoves ink and parchment to the floor. “Problem for later,” he growls against her shoulder before he kisses her.

“Zev, Zev, my footwraps —”

“Are not in my way,” he reaches down and cups his hand around a leather-wrapped calf. Lifts until her leg is slung over his hip.

Isseya places her hands on his cheeks and draws him down into a kiss. He steps closer, moves into the space between her legs, and she makes a soft noise when she feels him against the inside of her thigh.

“Fuck, fuck,” she’s panting now, quick breaths into the scant amount of space between their lips. “Zev…”

He hushes her gently, a soothing noise right against her ear and she shivers. Rocks her hips forward and wraps her arms around his neck. Zevran hums, licks up the flat of her ear and takes the point of it into his mouth the same instant he presses into her. The noise that breaks from her chest is low and needy. Blunt nails dig into his back and she throws her other leg over his hip. Presses her heels into the small of his back, tries to draw him closer.

“Issy, I’m here, easy,” he reaches up and swipes a thumb under her eye and fuck, she’s crying again. During sex no less. She presses her face into his neck and laughs weakly. “I’m here.”

“I missed you so much,” she kisses his sternum. “I was so worried one of us was going to —”

“ _Amor_ , _tesoro_ ,” a gentle hand takes her chin and tips her head back. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m, fuck, I’m alright. It’s just a lot, give me a minute?”

Zevran nods. Smooths a hand over her hair and kisses her temple before touching their foreheads together. He whispers in Antivan, what she isn’t exactly sure, but the words are low and soft and soothe some deep ache in her soul that she didn’t know was there. Leave it to him to heal what she didn’t know was even broken.

She rolls her hips a little. Inhales sharply and groans. “Move, please,” he laughs and kisses her before he rocks into her.

It takes very little time for Isseya to become a wordless mess. She arches into him, one hand clutching the back of his neck and the other braced on the desk behind her. He sets his hands on either side of her hips, palms flat against the wood she sits on, and sets an easy pace until they’re both so keyed up she thinks they’re going to die. He’s panting against her neck, one hand falling between them so his thumb can find her clit and he snaps his hips just a little harder, enough that she moans and squeezes his shoulder.

She comes hard, vision whiting out and a strangled sound clawing it’s way out from the back of her throat. Vaguely she hears Zevran gasp and moan against her neck, body going taut as he follows her over the edge. Slowly she lifts her hand and brushes hair from his face, easing it away from sweat slick skin. She pinches the tip of his ear and they both shudder when his hips jerk involuntarily.

“You’re impossible,” he pants against her shoulder, chuckling weakly. Raising his head, he kisses her slowly before pulling back to bump their noses together. “Okay?”

Isseya hums and continues to run her fingers through his hair. “Perfect.”

Zevran straightens up, rolls his shoulders and steps back. She whines when he pulls out, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before they spring open when he picks her up. Her legs lock around his waist again, arms slung over his shoulders and she laughs, high and bright and clear.

“Love you,” she presses a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek.

He chuckles, turns his head to catch her lips and carries her down the hall to their room. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know how sometimes things get away from you? yeah that.


End file.
